Date: Mon, 3 Sep 2018 19:15:31 +1200 From: Nylon Boy Subject: Samantha Finds His Nylons: You Must Cum Down To Go Up This story is a work of fiction, and does not condone any inappropriate behaviour between adults and teenagers. How do you feel about this chapter? I'd like to write more, but let me know if I should, and what direction you'd like me to go in. Please send your feedback to nylon.boy.xxx@gmail.com. You can feel free to distribute this material, but please include my email as credit for authoring this story. If you don't like themes of sexual exploration and discovery of a bisexual adolescent, including sexual interaction with older people and teens, then please back out now!! Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story. :) [---=====---=====---=====---=====---] Life directly after the night at Kelvin's was difficult to cope with. Abandonment, isolation, and alienation were all feelings that I had to deal with. I was embarrassed and humiliated with myself, and every interaction I had with others felt like a facade. I'd enjoyed willingly receiving oral sex from another man, and I also enjoyed how feminine I felt wearing women's clothing. I tried to lie to myself about it. I really loved it, but did that make me a freak? I felt like I no longer knew myself, and was initially scared of what I would become. I dreaded going back to school on Monday and spent most of the weekend alone, in my bedroom, in my own thoughts. In those moments, I eventually pledged to myself that I would just leave it in the past and get on with my life as it was before this had happened. Unfortunately, my innocence had already been stolen, and I'd find out that fighting against my body's sexual urges was like climbing a slippery slope. Monday quickly came around, and I strode out of my house prepared to make a fresh start. But it didn't last long. As soon as I was on the bus, the anti-gay culture and slang prevalent amongst my peers at the time, reared itself. It made me feel isolated again. I began feeling like I was less of a human. When I arrived at school, my feelings fell even further when I saw Isaac approach me in the locker room. I was filled with anger - I wanted to dissolve our friendship and forget he even existed, and the anger would help me elicit a reason to justify it. "Hey! I heard you came around on Friday night! Sorry I wasn't home, but maybe-" I cut Isaac off before he could finish. "Yeah, so what?" I said, coldly. Isaac looked puzzled, but finished his sentence. "Weeeeelll, I was going to ask that maybe you could come around this weekend and we can hang out? Since I missed you last weekend..." "No, I'm busy this weekend." I said, and turned back towards my locker. "Oh, ok. Well, maybe we should catch-up during the week... Dad brought Final Fantasy 3 for us yesterday, and I was thinking me and you could clock it together..." The thought of playing one of the most hyped Nintendo video games ever was overshadowed by the fact that to continue this friendship would mean that I'd have to constantly face the embarrassment and duplicity of living a double-life. "Nah, it's okay." I said, dismissively. "And, I don't think we should hang out anymore, sorry..." As I said the words, Isaac's face turned into anguish, and my heart churned slightly. "What? ... But I thought- " I quickly interrupted his shocked response. "Well, you thought wrong. Sorry, I'm just too busy to play video games..." I angrily shouted, maintaining my coldness. With that, I slammed the door to my locker. I could feel Isaac's eyes burning a hole in my back as I walked away, and I couldn't help but feel regret and grief. My fear drove my actions, and at the time I was thankful that I didn't have to deal with this internal conflict much more. Oh, how naive and stupid I was. It wouldn't be more than an hour later when I'd be confronted with my latent desires again. I remember distinctly that my transformation began while I was in English class. Our teacher, Miss Morissey, was an attractive woman. Long, blonde hair that fell past her shoulders. Tall, with an athletic body. Today, she was wearing a red, shoulder strapped dress that exposed her tanned, athletic shoulders. The dress cut just above her knees and accentuated her slim figure. She sat at the front of the class, her seductive green eyes behind a pair of reading glasses scanning the latest excerpt from Homer's epic poem, The Iliad. Miss Morissey was a stunningly attractive woman, and was the center of all the pubescent boys and girls sexual appeal, mine included. But today, something else about her immediately grabbed my attention. As I examined her with my usual lustful stupor, my eyes glanced down to her legs. They were long and tanned; fit. But still, there were other features that made my mouth water. She was wearing tan silk stockings. I could tell they were stockings because I could see the lacy top around her thigh peeking out from the slit in her dress. They looked so smooth and silky as they ran down her legs, and disappeared within the confines of her tan-coloured strappy pumps. She had her legs crossed, with one leg bobbing rhythmically over her knee. The wagging of her leg caused the heel of her shoe to pop out, exposing her nylon-covered flesh. I watched, mesmerised, as her shoe hung precariously by her toes. While I wasn't religious, as the shoe dipped up and down, I wished to God for divine intervene so that it'd fall off her toes and her soft-looking foot would be bared by all. I inspected the definition of her nylon-covered sole and ankle, imagining how soft it must feel. I glanced at the top of her foot, and took notice of the cleavage of her toes, particularly how the nylons flexed as her foot moved. It looked so soft, I wanted to worship them, and suck on her toes like Kelvin had done to mine. My mouth was watering. I was highly aroused by the sight of Miss Morissey in stockings, unaware that my desires had been fully awakened. My cock twitched to life, and I struggled during class to keep it from getting a mind of its own. In fact, school that day itself was a struggle just to keep focused. I was overwhelmed by my newfound fascination that I'd almost considered masturbating in the boys toilets. My attention would continuously be captivated by the other girls in my classes, most of whom wore pantyhose and stockings. The girls wore nylons of all types - some tanned, some white, most black, some opaque, some sheer. I felt like I was becoming a perv as I patiently waited for opportunities to spy my classmates feet. I was a horny, oversexed mess, constantly overwhelmed by desire. When I got home from school, I was somehwat relieved. Despite trying to repress what had happened with Kelvin, the sexual frustrations felt at school had only served to heighten my desires. I needed to feel the femininity of wearing nylons again. I needed to feel good. I needed to cum. As per the norm, when I got home Mom was still at work, so I knew I had a few hours to experiment. I immediately locked up the house to give the impression that noone was home, and went straight to Mom's bedroom to rifle through her drawers. From them, I produced a pair of tan-colored pantyhose, similar in look to the type that Miss Morissey wore in class. I went to my bedroom, closed the curtains, and shut the door. After a day like today, I wasn't surprised when I took off my pants to notice dried white stains where my precum had leaked into the inside of my underwear, saturating the material. I took them off and threw them in my washing basket. I put my hand in the pantyhose - they felt so smooth and silky. I thought about how sexy Miss Morissey would've felt wearing a pair of these all day, and I wondered how she did it without being equally as frustrated as I was. All rational thought had finally evaporated. I didn't hesitate to bundle each pantyhose leg and prepare to put them on. I put my first foot into the opening, lining my toes up with the seam. I admired how my toes looked under the darker-colored reinforced nylon. They looked so cute. I began wondering what Miss Morissey's feet looked like under her pantyhose, and wondered if they looked as youthfully gorgeous and well-formed as mine. I put my other foot into the opposite opening, before pulling the pantyhose up my legs. I stood to pull the crotch up, the pantyhose encasing my body in its smooth embrace. The feeling was absolutely amazing! I sat, legs crossed, allowing the pantyhose around my thighs to slide against each other, sending pulses up into my privates, my cock twitching at how sensual they felt. By now, my penis was throbbing, and a dark patch had formed in the crotch where I'd began leaking precum. I started caressing my toes, feet, and ankles, admiring how feminine they looked and felt. They felt so smooth. I ran my hands up my legs, admiring how the color accentuated my tanned, smooth legs. They looked so much more softer and smoother with the pantyhose on. I ran my hands up my thighs, lapping in the sensuality of the sensations, and my cock throbbed in anticipation. Finally, my hands rested on my crotch, the bulge of my cock creating an outline of a tube from within the nylon. I fondled myself through the nylons. The feeling was unbearable, I felt like I was in heaven. I began fantasizing about Miss Morissey. I thought about lifting her skirt up and rubbing my nylon-covered cock against her crotch. I thought about her wrapping her long, slim legs around me, and how it would feel with them rubbing up against my own nylon-clad legs. I imagined what her feet would look like as she held them in the air, her toes scrunched and her legs open, ready to accept my hard cock inside of her. I quickly straddled my pillow on my bed and began rubbing my penis against it by thrusting my hips. I fantasized about fucking Miss Morissey while she wore stockings, as the soft nylon crotch caressed my cock as it grinded against the pillow. I was in ecstacy. My hips pumped faster as I began furiously stroking my legs and feet. I ignored the roll of tissues under my bed that I normally used to catch my cum, as by now my sexual impulses had completely overpowered me and ruled my decisions - I was going to cum all over my nylons and myself, and the thought only excited me more. Almost animalistically, my hips moved faster and faster. I furiously rubbed myself off, my smooth nylon cock sliding effortlessly against the pillow. I felt the tension building, my cock throbbed intensely. I was about to cum. And then, as I was imagining fucking Miss Morissey from behind, I came. I blew all over my nylons. I moaned aloud as streams and streams of cum shot out and drenched my stomach, my pillow, and the crotch of the nylons. It was so amazing, like scratching a ten-year old itch. I was almost surprised by how much cum I had produced. I was finally satisfied. My senses started coming back to me, and I realised what I'd done. I felt a little embarassed, and humiliated, but in that moment it was different. This time I'd resolved to accept and explore my fetish, as it was simply too irresistable to deny. I took off the cum-soaked pantyhose and placed them under the bed. Before I resolved to clean myself up, I looked down at my stomach to see my semen glistening in the waning sunlight that shone through the crack of my curtains. Curiously, I took a wad of it on my finger, and lightly pressed my tongue against it, lapping up a small amount into my mouth. I swirled it between the top of my tongue and the roof of my mouth, tasting its saltiness. It didn't taste too bad, and I thought that maybe I didn't get enough, so I placed my finger and the residual lump of cum into my mouth, sucking it, allowing it to swirl around my mouth before swallowing it. Aside from having to reconcile that I'd just eaten something ejected from my own cock, it actually tasted pretty good. After I'd cleaned up, I was startled by a knock at the door. I decided just to ignore it. Again, the knock, this time louder, as if it were the police. I went into my bedroom and carefully peered through the curtains, trying to catch a glimpse of who was at the door. It was Isaac! Again, another round of knocking, followed up by some hollering. It was then that I realised that I'd left my shoes outside, so he knew that I was home. I sighed heavily, and moved to the front door. Isaac smiled as I appeared on the other side of the glass sliding door entrance. I slid it open. "What?!" I angrily scolded. "Oh, hey... ummm I'm sorry... I just figured we needed to talk." "About what?" I angrily insisted. "I don't want to talk to you anymore, I thought you'd realise that. But I guess I need to state it plainly for you." Isaac smiled rather devilishly. "Oh, no we need to talk." He said. The tone of his voice puzzled me. "About what Dad was hiding in his bedroom..." Immediately, I tensed up. The hair on my arms stood on their ends. I almost knew what was coming. Isaac reached into his bag and produced a number of photos - they were the one's Kelvin had taken of me in Lianda's clothes. My eyes widened. The blood ran out of my face. My heart pounded against my chest. I began sweating, feeling completely helpless. I felt a rush of anger for letting Kelvin use me like that and for taking advantage of my openness, and then a rush of pure fear of having these photos leaked out to the school. It'd be the ultimate humiliation, the one thing I hoped to avoid. I felt like I was going to faint. It became a surreal moment. The rest of Isaac's words soaked in like a dish sponge. "So about this weekend... tell your Mom I'm coming over to stay the night. We're going to have a little talk about this. You won't be able to just weasel out of it. This isn't about what you want... no, I could make you my bitch if I wanted to, do you realise that?" I honestly contemplated death. I was top of my class at school, a good athlete, and even though it seemed a little fractured at times, I had a wonderful family life. I had to play this out. I had to figure out how to get past this, but I felt so powerless. "I'll take your non-answer as a yes... so, I'm coming over Saturday evening, and you better be willing to talk, because there's no way I'm going to see my Dad go back to jail again." He demanded. I could only nod in agreeance, naked and vulnerable with my pride stripped. "Good." Isaac smiled. "See ya at school." Isaac winked and stepped off the doorstep. I considered tackling him and taking the photos from him, but I know there were a lot more taken than the ones he had shown me. I found it hard to sleep that night, and for the rest of the week, for that matter. I was in a daze at school, and I was on my final nerve. I even got a detention on Thursday evening because I had a physical fight with a guy in class over something that I'd misinterpreted as an insult. I felt like I was counting down to the end of my life. Little did I know, it was going to be the beginning of a new, more interesting one.